


Flustered

by notimetoblog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Fluff, F/M, Nothing but sweetness here, bucky fluff, fluffy fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 21:32:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17030391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notimetoblog/pseuds/notimetoblog
Summary: It’s easy to see when Bucky is flustered. His mannerism are beyond adorable but they might be hiding something more.





	Flustered

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy it!!! Thanks for reading!

A flustered Bucky was a sight to behold. His cheeks would be dusted in the most adorable shade of pink and he would immediately begin fussing with his long locks. It wouldn’t happen often, but when it did, your mind would quickly try to capture a mental picture of it. 

Most outsiders saw him as a brooding soldier with a troubled past. And yes, that was part of him, but little by little a more complex and truer Bucky emerged from the remnants of the machine Hydra had created. This Bucky was sweet, full of compassion, witty, and a total flirt. 

But now, he sat in front of you at the breakfast table, blushing and messing with his loose hair. What had brought on his bashfulness didn’t matter when all you could think of was how gorgeously adorable the man in front of you was. 

“You can’t do that to me, Y/N,” he said through a smile, cheeks still pink. 

“Do what?” you feigned innocence. 

“Reduce me to a puddle.”

“Is that what I did?” you asked, a smile slowly spreading across your lips. 

His gaze held yours, a soft gaze that would make anybody lose their minds. You tried your best to remain calm and collected, though, very much enjoying the current situation. 

“Don’t give me that,” he laughed, eyes focused on yours with a new flare in the beautiful shade of blue that swam in his eyes. “You know very well what you’re doing. I’ll have you know, it isn’t very fair.”

You raised your eyebrows at that new flare. Maybe this would be the day this little dynamic of yours changed into something you had been wishing for a while now. 

Maybe this quiet morning, under the harsh lighting of the compound’s kitchen, would see the both of you become something more than just good friends. Because this little dance had been going on for a few months now. The flirty comments, the attempts at making the other flustered, and it was fun and sweet, but your heart was longing for something more. 

It had been quietly hoping for something more solid. Something that would still be full of flirty moments, but that rested on a more defined foundation. But as soon as that thought would appear once more in your mind, the question of whether Bucky was ready for that immediately followed it. Because yes, he seemed happier than he had been before, seemed much more confident and stronger, but nobody would be able to deny the damage that had been done to him. And nobody could blame him for guarding himself as he rediscovered who he was. So, you always played it safe, always hoped your friendship would continue even though deep down inside you hoped it would flourish into something else. 

“I’m not being fair?” you asked, almost laughing at yourself for the way your voice sounded much softer than it did a few moments ago when you were blatantly teasing Bucky. 

“No, you’re not,” he confirmed. Eyes still holding that new flare you were suddenly becoming obsessed with. 

“How come?” you almost whispered.

Hearing your whisper made Bucky’s eyebrows furrow, a look of confusion replacing that new looked fascinating you. 

“Do you really not know?” he asked leaning across the table. 

You answered his question by silently shaking your head. 

He fussed with his long locks again. Trying his best to tuck a particularly stubborn strand behind his ear. After a few seconds of fighting with it, he brought his hand down and rested it beside his other hand on the table, gaze now suddenly fixed on his hands instead of your eyes. 

“It’s harder for me to shake off your comments,” he replied with his own whisper.  
It was your turn to furrow your brows. Your thoughts raced as they tried to understand what he was saying. But they were hopeless as they couldn’t seem to find an answer. 

“What do you mean?” you chose to ask him instead. 

He looked up from his hands, his gaze vulnerable. 

“You say things to me,” he began, “and then you move on finding another thing to say. But I’m still trying my best not to read too much into the first thing you said to me.” 

He tried not to read too much into the things you said? What did that mean?

“I’m your friend, doll,” he continued, and you would be lying if you said that didn’t sting. “And it’s something I have to remind myself of, because I respond to your comments with a few of my own, but you can shake them off easily and I can’t. I’ll think about them for hours, trying to remind myself that I’m just your friend.”

You felt your heart speed up in your chest at his confession. And despite the speed in which your heart raced, your mind fell behind trying to make sure you were understanding him correctly. It slowly pieced everything he said, double checking you weren’t misinterpreting anything he was saying. 

You saw as his gaze drop to his hands, fingers fidgeting as he waited for any response. 

“You think about my comments for hours?” you found yourself asking.

Without looking up from his hands, you saw him give you a slow nod.  
“Bucky?” you said gently. “Can you look at me, please.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, he looked up to you, but he spoke up before you managed to say what you had been wanting to say for so long. 

“I don’t want to ruin this,” he said as he pointed at you and at him. “That wasn’t my intention. I like when you compliment my hair or when you notice I’m wearing a new shirt. I really do. I even like when you say something about my eyes or what you did just now where you leave me a puddle at your feet. This isn’t a problem with you, it’s me. And that was the most cliché thing I could’ve said, but it’s true. I don’t want your sweet comments to stop, I appreciate them, and I didn’t mean to call you unfair, I just, why don’t we just forget this happened and we can go on about our day like normal? I promise I’ll find a way to deal with all of this.”

“All of what?” you asked after a beat of silence. “You’ll figure out to deal with all of what?”

He stared back as if surprised at himself for letting that slip and at you for pointing it out. 

“All of,” he began, cautiously navigating his way to an answer. “All of the feelings I have for you,” he whispered. 

You looked as he almost deflated back into his chair and your heart broke. For months, you figured he wasn’t ready for anything more than a friendship, all the while he was convincing himself of the same thing thinking it was you that couldn’t see him as more than a friend. But now was your time to make sure he knew just how many feelings you had for him too. 

“Last week,” you said, smiling as you thought back to the moment you were talking about, “you came over to me in the living room, doubling over as you laughed at Sam and the mess he was making while trying to beat your famous waffles. Do you remember?”

He nodded, brows furrowed again. 

“And you told me all about what was happening in the kitchen. It was hard to follow,” you chuckled, “since you kept having to stop your story to laugh. But you finally got it out and eventually left to go back to the kitchen. Meanwhile I stayed in the living room, replaying that moment in my mind, because nothing makes me happier than seeing you happy and hearing your laugh.”

You paused a second, feeling his gaze shift as he began understanding where you were heading with this. 

“You mean so much to me, Buck” you shyly shared your own confession. “Much more than you seem to think. You don’t even have to make a flirty comment, to have me thinking about you for hours.”

“You mean it?” you barely heard him ask. 

“With all I’ve got,’ you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

“Then that date I keep telling myself I shouldn’t ask you on wouldn’t be too farfetched of an idea?”

“All you gotta do is ask, Buck,” you said, smiling along with him as he heard your response. 

“Darling,” he began, his cheeks once again dusted in pink, his hands playing with his hair, “can I take you out to dinner tonight?”

“A thousand times yes,” you replied cheerfully. 

That flare you had noticed returned to his eyes making them brighter, bluer, even more beautiful than you thought possible. 

“I should’ve called you unfair months ago,” he laughed as he jumped out of his chair and leaned down to press a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

You looked up into his eyes, knowing very well you would be falling even harder for the adorable man that had now shown you he was more than ready to take your friendship to the next level. Sure, he was adorable when he was flustered, but in all honesty, he was adorable no matter what he was doing. And now you would see just how adorable he could be as your date.


End file.
